


Family

by MishaAnya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Torture, some torture, some violence, they live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25120579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MishaAnya/pseuds/MishaAnya
Summary: Dean and Cas are hunting when they get ambushed by a shifter.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 21





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, 2020 is the worst and I've recently gotten back into Supernatural and Cas/Dean, but not in the ooey-goey way cause that almost always feels too OOC. Hope you like. All errors are my own. I wrote this during work.

“I’m getting too old for this,” Dean thought as he made his way up a wooded hill. Snow crunched underneath his feet. Between the weeds and the snow that came up to his shin, he wasn’t even sure he was on the trail anymore. Not that it mattered. All of the victims had been taken because the trail was barely visible. Whatever the hell it was, it was purposely picking a place where it knew people would get lost.

“See anything?” Cas’s voice called from behind him. 

Dean shook his head. 

“Do you know what you’re looking for?” Cas asked.

“Do you?”

The angel was quiet. They’d been searching the woods for nearly three days now. And each time, not only did they not find it, but another person would be reported missing by the next day. Even the real law enforcement was starting to get worried. Not that they’d be helpful anyways.

The wind whipped snow around them, Dean’s face hurt from the extended exposure. It had been steadily getting colder. They’d hoped to make progress before the next snowfall, thinking maybe they’d be able to find tracks or evidence, but in the mountains of Colorado, there was no guarantee. Judging by the clouds above them, the next bout was not far off.

“Do you want to head back?” Cas asked.

“If we give up now we’ll lose another one by tomorrow,” Dean said roughly.

If there was one thing Dean Winchester couldn’t stand, it was innocent victims. 

So they trudged on, following more or less the route their previous victim was last seen hiking. They had nothing to go on. Sam was still researching, but with no bodies, no blood, no link between the victims except the woods, it felt more and more like they were hunting something invisible, or something human. 

The sun was starting to go down and the temperature dropped so suddenly that Dean stopped in his tracks. “It’s just the weather, Dean,” Cas reassured him. “I do not believe we’re hunting a spirit.” 

Dean nodded and looked at the waning sun. They had two choices. Turn back empty handed, or see if nightfall brought them any luck, good or bad. “Do you have any cell service?” Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. As if reading Dean’s mind, he said, “Sam will be expecting us.”

Dean grunted. Cas wasn’t wrong. They barely had enough layers on, let alone supplies to camp out. Not that he had a problem with sleeping outside, but he had no strong desire to sleep in the snow with no shelter. He sighed. “Let’s turn back,” he said, defeated.

Cas nodded and stepped back so Dean could take the lead. The hunter always felt more comfortable at the front, and Cas knew better than to argue. His sense of direction wasn’t as strong. 

The sky opened up above them and small flakes started flurrying around them. It would have been beautiful in the sunset, if the wind wasn’t starting to pick up. And if they weren’t hunting a monster.

They stumbled through the snow in silence. It was starting to come down faster and heavier now. They kept their eyes and ears still peeled in case they saw something on the way back. Cas almost walked into Dean when the hunter stopped suddenly. “Dean?”

“I can’t find our trail,” Dean groaned.

Cas looked around them. Dean was right. The snow had covered their earlier tracks. They’d waited too long coming back. “Do you recognize anything?” the angel asked.

It was a moot question. The forest was just brown trees and white snow. They could only see a few feet in front of them with any clarity. With the sun still shining, they could tell east from west, but nothing more and soon that wouldn’t be reliable either. 

Dean grumbled under his breath. He was cold and wasn’t looking forward to clearing the snow off of Baby once they found her. She’d need a good detailing after this pointless adventure. They trudged towards the direction they thought they came from. 

Their shadows grew long in the limited light and soon disappeared all together. Cas shivered, regretting only having a trenchcoat. Dean didn’t look much warmer, but at least he was wearing layers. Winchester style.

Dean saw the shadow out of the corner of his eye just a second too late. He was shoved face first into the freezing snow, his head cracking painfully against an icy boulder. “Dean!” he heard Cas’s voice and the scuffle behind him as the angel rushed to his defense. Red flooded into Dean’s left eye and when he tried to rise to his feet, he fell over. He could hear the rustling of Cas trying to fend off their attacker.

Dean pulled himself into a sitting position blinking heavily at the two shadows only a few feet in front of him. Even in the dark, he could make out which shape belonged to Cas, but he couldn’t risk shooting without a clean shot. He scrambled to his feet, wiping the blood off his face and charged. 

The shadow sidestepped Dean easily, leaving him to sprawl on the snowy ground once more. Dean heard a grunt and saw Cas’s outline crumple to the ground. “Cas!” 

The shadow turned to Dean as he stood up. “You son of a bitch,” he grunted. He charged again. The creature deflected and knocked Dean down. This time he stood above the hunter and the last thing Dean saw was a large black boot colliding painfully with his face.

When he came to, his hands were bound above his head, cold metal digging tightly into the soft skin around his wrists. His toes barely grazed the ground. His wrists and shoulders twinged with pain. His head ached, his nose felt broken. Dean opened his eyes slowly, dried blood pulling his skin tight, his gaze sweeping around his surroundings. He was in underground, probably a cave. It was relatively well lit considering how far underground he guessed he was. And he wasn’t alone.

In the far corner, were the missing victims. They seemed unharmed, but he couldn’t be sure. There was one face he couldn’t find though. Frantically, Dean searched the cave as much as he could from his stationary spot, hanging from the dirt ceiling. He looked at the humans, behind makeshift bars. “Did you see a guy in a trenchcoat?”

They didn’t answer. They wouldn’t even make eye contact.

Dean heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and his eyes narrowed. The humans seemed to recognize the sound and shrank as much as they could away from the bars. A relatively human looking being came into view, dragging something behind him. Dean pulled painfully at the binds that held him when Cas’s face came into the light. “Don’t you touch him,” he growled. 

The person dropped Cas’s limp body on the floor. Dean searched the angel’s face for any sign of life. If anything, he looked half dead and in the dim light, he could see blood on the front of Cas’s trench coat. His eyes were closed, his lips blue.

“What do you want?” Dean demanded.

“You,” the creature answered and turned. For the first time, Dean got a good look at his face.

“You’re human,” Dean said. “Freaking humans…”

The person hissed. “Not human,” it said. It’s skin started to slide off, changing until it was Dean’s own eyes staring back at him. 

“Even worse,” Dean said. “Shapeshifter. Since when do shifters hold people captive for days?”

“I had to draw you out somehow,” it said.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Me?”

It shrugged. “Well, I would have taken any hunter, but I was hoping for the Winchesters. You see, you made me an orphan.”

“Ah, so you want revenge for me killing your parents who were killing humans,” Dean said. He yawned. “Boring.”

The shifter hit him in the gut. Dean gasped, the air knocked out of him. “You took everything from me,” his own voice said. “And now, I’m going to take everything from you.”

The shifter approached Cas and Dean pulled at the cuffs holding his wrists, again. His shoulders screamed, blood started to drip from the metal cuffs. “Leave him,” Dean grunted.

The shifter lifted Cas with ease and carried him. “Leave him!” Dean yelled again.

He could hear soft rustling noises and groan. When the shifter came into view, Dean scowled. “You son of a bitch, I’m going to tear you limb from limb.”

“You should be quiet now,” he answered, and forced a gag into Dean’s mouth. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said. “And when I’m done with your friend, I’ll start on them,” he nodded to the humans. “Or you. Life’s so full of possibilities.”

The shifter walked away and Dean strained his ears, trying to yell through the dirty fabric in his mouth. He could just barely hear Cas groaning. “D..Dean? What..what are you-?”

Then the screaming started. Dean yelled against the fabric, frantically trying to yank his arms free. Tears stung his eyes as he heard Cas’s cries. The angel stuttered. “You’re not Dean,” during a short reprieve and Dean felt those words in his very soul. 

“Dean is busy right now,” the shifter answered. Dean could hear the delight it was taking in his torture. 

“If you harmed him,” Cas’s voice was faint, but Dean could hear the edge behind it. 

“Funny,” shifter Dean said. “He said the same thing about you.”

Cas cried out again. 

Dean closed his eyes and prayed. _Cas, I'm here.._

_Dean…_

The prayer link was weak. Dean could feel Cas fading. And then the screaming stopped.

“Oh no, you don’t get to pass out yet,” Dean’s voice echoed through the cave. “I plan on enjoying this." 

It continued for another hour. Cas would hold out until he couldn’t, and his screams would vibrate through the cave and each time, Dean felt himself dying. He pulled and yanked desperately at what was holding him. Iron chains anchored to the ceiling. The cuffs were sliding a little now as he bled from his wrists. 

Finally, Cas’s cries stopped and the shapeshifter came into Dean’s view. Dean didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. “He’s tough that one,” shifter Dean taunted, twirling a blood soaked knife between his fingers. “Well, not so much anymore.” 

Dean felt his heart stop. 

“Oh relax, he’s not dead yet,” shifter Dean cooed. “I told you I wanted to enjoy this.” 

He let the knife in his hand change fingers, almost playfully. “I’ve never made an angel cry, I’m looking forward to doing it again.” 

Dean pulled again at the chains, but with no resistance to help him, he merely hung painfully. Still, he breathed a little easier. Cas was still alive. 

The shifter seemed to read his mind. “Oh, he’s still alive,” he taunted. “I need him to be.” 

Dean’s brow furrowed when the shifter’s knife entered his side. Dean yelled against the gag in his mouth, breathing heavily. Dean could hear other chains shifting faintly around the corner. Cas was listening. The shifter removed the fabric. “Oh, I know you can squeal louder than that.” 

“Don’t touch him!” Cas’s voice rang out. Dean was surprised to hear how much strength was in it. And how much relief hearing it gave him. 

Shifter Dean’s mouth pulled into a sickening grin. “Did you know, there are certain places in the human body that can be stabbed,” he pushed the knife into Dean’s side again. “Without killing you?” 

Dean bit his lip so hard he thought it might bleed, determined to not scream. He didn’t need Cas worrying about him. He was worried enough for the both of them. Shifter Dean just smiled at his determination. Dean spat on the ground. “You’re a sick son of a bitch, you know that?” 

Shifter Dean held the knife to the hunter’s cheek. “You should be nicer, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to that tongue of yours.” 

“Stop it!” Cas’s voice rang through the cave. 

The shifter only smiled more. “Do you want more, little angel?” he taunted to Cas. He turned. 

“Leave him,” was Cas’s reply. “Please.” The shifter took another step away from Dean, as if contemplating his options. 

Dean took his chance. He used every ounce of strength he could muster in his screaming torso to bring his knees to his chest and aimed a kick at the back of the shifter’s head. His boots hit the mark, but not without paying a price. He came down hard and felt his wrist crack painfully and loudly still embraced in an iron cuff. He let out a string of expletives that would’ve made a sailor uncomfortable. 

“Dean!” 

“Be quiet, Cas,” the hunter hissed through his teeth, breath heavy. He could hear Cas pulling at his own chains. His own wrist swelled agonizingly into the already tight iron cuffs. He raised his head. 

The shifter wasn’t harmed, infact, he seemed torn between annoyed and amused. Dean made eye contact and refused to break it. The shifter moved swiftly and before Dean could stop himself, he was yelling as the knife entered his side. 

“DEAN!” Cas’s voice nearly shook the cavern. Unable to see Dean, he had only the sounds to rely on. 

“Aww,” the shifter said, face only inches from Dean’s. “He’s worried about you.” 

Dean gasped when the shifter tore the blade out and felt more blood start to drip down his abdomen. He seethed. The only thing holding his weight was the chains on a broken wrist. Dark circles flashed around the corner of his eyes. He forced them open. _Cas…_

He could hear Cas pulling angrily at his own chains. _Stop, you’ll hurt yourself._

The shifter eyed Dean. “Hmm, I expected more.” 

Dean’s eyes widened as the shifter walked away. “No,” he grunted. “No, come back. I’m not finished with you.” 

_Dean, let me help._

_No_

But the shifter didn’t go towards Cas. “You two behave now. I have another Winchester to hunt for,” and he walked out. 

When Dean was certain he was gone, he succumbed to the darkness.

He woke up only minutes later, to Cas’s voice calling to him. “Dean! Answer me,” the angel’s voice pleaded. “Dean!” his voice sounded hoarse.

Dean’s mouth felt dry and his tongue thick. “Cas,” he managed to grunt.

Cas sighed. “You’re alive.”

“Unfortunately,” the hunter spit out. “You good?”

“Why did you antagonize him?” Cas asked softly.

“What?

“You hurt him somehow. Why? You knew it wasn’t going to help...”

Dean’s words slurred. “He was gonna…” the black spots were coming back. The stab wounds felt like they were being ripped more and more with every breath and he couldn’t relieve the pressure on his wrist. He passed out again.

This time it wasn’t Cas’s voice waking him up. It was freezing water being splashed on him. “Bitch!” Dean stuttered through chattering teeth.

“Morning sunshine!” It wasn’t Dean’s green eyes looking at him this time. It was Cas’s blue ones.

“Oh you’re a dick…” Dean muttered.

Shifter Cas just shrugged. “Glad you’re awake. Couldn’t find your brother, so I thought I’d have more fun with your angel friend.”

Dean could barely think straight. He was still losing blood and his wrist was now black. “Just leave him alone,” he said softly. “Let him go.”

“Aww, I don’t think I will,” shifter Cas chirped. “In fact, I need him here for you.”

“I swear I’m going to literally rip every limb from you,” Dean growled.

Shifter Cas shrugged again. “You can certainly try,” he grinned.

The next hour was the longest of Dean’s life. He was freezing, wet, the fingers that weren’t black were turning blue. He heard every cry, every punch, every hitch in Cas’s breath as he was tortured mercilessly just out of sight. To Cas’s credit, he tried to stay silent, wanting to protect the hunter from more agony. But some things were just too painful. Dean hollered until his voice was raw. Every inch of him ached and what wasn’t bruised or beaten, felt each hit Cas took because of him. His eyes watered. Cas’s grunts and cries echoed off the dirt walls.

Dean reached his good hand around the chain holding his cuff. Every stabbing pulled his skin. He hissed and tried to flex the fingers of his bad wrist. They moved, but the black spots around his eyes reappeared. He focused on the pain and wrapped his fingers around the chain. He hoisted himself up, like a kid on the monkey bars and lifted his legs to his chest. His shoulders screamed, he thought his wrist might fall off. But he pushed his feet to the top of the cave and pushed.

Something snapped and Dean fell to the dirt floor with a sickening crunch that echoed through the cave. He’d landed on his back, his head smacking painfully against the floor. The relief of being on solid ground only lasted a second when blue eyes looked at him from only a few feet away.

Dean swore under his breath and tried to scramble to his feet, but he was slow and only managed to back up a few inches from the shifter advancing on him, looking exactly like the angel he was so desperate to save. Dean looked frantically for anything he could use as a weapon, but was at a loss.

Then something tall shoved into the shifter, knocking him sprawling across the floor. Dean looked up to see Sam standing over him and looked around just in time to see the shifter fleeing. Dean struggled to his feet. When Sam reached for him he knocked his brother’s hand away. “Get Cas,” he said gruffly. “And the hikers. I’ll get the shifter.”

“Dean your wrist-”

“Get Cas!” He tore the silver knife out of Sam’s hand and ran after the shifter.

“Dean!”

Dean wasn’t listening though. He could only see red. The pain over his body flooded his mind and he only had one thought, one goal. The cave had a tunnel that he followed, eyes peeled, ears straining to detect any sound. The tunnel was dark, he was at a disadvantage once again, but he didn’t care.

It was instant. One second he was on his feet, holding his arm protectively against his chest, the next, Dean was being shoved against the dirt wall. The knife flew out of his hand, clattering to the ground. Strong hands wrapped around his neck, his brain screaming for air. “Fun’s over,” Cas’s blue eyes bore down on him.

Dean raised his arms and slammed his hands on the shifter’s ears. He stumbled and Dean gasped for the air flooding his lungs. The shifter aimed punch after punch but Dean didn’t care. Nothing could hurt more than what he was already feeling. He saw an opening and tackled the shifter, pinning him to the ground beneath him.

He punched. He hit the shifter, again and again, trying to remind himself that it wasn’t really Cas he was bloodying. “I told you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I would tear you limb from limb.”

His hands hurt, shifter Cas’s face streamed blood. He wasn’t moving anymore, but Dean couldn’t stop until a hand gripped his shoulder. “Dean, it’s done,” it was Cas’s voice behind him, but Sam’s hand. “Let Sam take care of it.”

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Sam,” Cas said. “His arm…”

Dean barely registered what Cas was saying. He shifted to get off the unconscious creature. “Dean, where’s the knife?” Sam asked.

The shifter’s arm moved too fast for them to stop it. “CAS!”

The angel slumped against the dirt wall and Sam lunged for the shifter. Dean crawled frantically to his side. “Dean, the knife!” Sam yelled, trying to restrain the shifter.

Dean pulled it out as gently as he could and turned to face the shifter. Cas’s face contorted into a twisted grin and Dean plunged the knife into its heart before racing back to the angel’s side. “Cas!"

He ripped off his shirt and pressed it into the gaping wound in Cas’s abdomen. “Dean, we gotta get you both to a hospital…The car isn’t far. I’ll carry him. Can you walk?”

It was all he could do.

When they approached the Impala, Sam placed Cas’s limp body into the back seat and Dean climbed in after him, holding his ripped shirt to Cas’s torso. “Cas?” he said, his voice weak.

Cas’s eyes fluttered. “Dean…”

Sam drove faster than he’d ever had before. Dean released a breath when Cas said his name and then saw black.

When he came to, Dean was in a white room. His head screamed as his eyes adjusted to the light of the hospital. There were machines next to him beeping. He glanced at his arm. It was plastered from his knuckles up to his elbow. It didn’t hurt...but everything else did.

The door to the room opened and Sam walked in. He looked awful. “You’re awake,” he sighed.

“Cas?” Dean croaked. “Did Cas-”

“I’m here Dean.”

Dean’s eyes swept to his left. “Cas?”

Cas was sitting in a chair in the far corner. Dean thought Sam looked terrible, but Cas looked near death. His hair was in disarray, he was in a hospital gown, and he had a five oclock shadow growing on his face. “Dean,” he said tiredly.

Sam looked between the both of them and cleared his throat. “I’m going to go get some coffee. Maybe you can convince him,” he gestured towards Cas, “to go back to his room.”

He walked out as a nurse walked him. She clucked at Cas. “You were supposed to stay in bed,” she admonished. “You,” she looked at Dean. “You’re lucky. You have a very devoted family.”

She checked his stats and asked if Dean needed more pain medication. He shook his head and then groaned. She raised an eyebrow. “You have a cracked skull, broken ribs, a shattered wrist, a bruised spine, and stab wounds. You sure you don’t want more?”

He sighed and nodded. “That’s what I thought,” she said, and she pressed some buttons on a machine to his right. “He’ll be falling asleep again soon,” she said to Cas. “You should get back to your room. You’re going to rip your stitches.”

She left the room and Dean glanced up, but looked away when Cas’s eyes met his. “Dean, why did you do it?"

“Do what, Cas?”

“Antagonize the shifter. I could hear it Dean. Your arm…”

“My arm will be fine,” Dean slurred, the morphine starting to kick in. “I’m always fine.”

“It could have killed you Dean.”

“It wanted to kill you,” Dean said barely above a whisper, his eyes closing. “I couldn’t let that happen. So get some rest, would ya?"

“On one condition,” Cas said.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t do that again,” Cas whispered, walking gingerly to Dean’s side. He kept one hand on his abdomen Dean noticed, even as the drugs made him drowsy.

“No deal…” Dean said.

Cas took Dean’s hand. “Dean…”

Dean took a deep breath and squeezed back. “No deal, Cas....family,” is all he managed to whisper as he fell asleep again, his hand still grasping Cas’s.


End file.
